


Down For the Count and Drowning In It

by Aurelia_Combeferre



Series: The Greatest City in the World [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, F/M, manila verse, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurelia_Combeferre/pseuds/Aurelia_Combeferre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern day AU crossover. In which Eliza Schuyler has a problem named Alexander Hamilton, and ends up with an unexpected intervention courtesy of an odd pair of neighbors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down For the Count and Drowning In It

  ** _Down For the Count and Drowning In It_**

_January 8, 2016_

One reason that Eponine likes making that lethally sweet custard known as  _leche flan_ is that it actually allows her some time to sit. ‘ _Because once everything is put together, all that’s left to do is steam it and cool it,’_ she thinks as she carefully lowers a foil wrapped flan mold into a small steaming dish, and then claps on the lid. Although it’s been some time since she’s last made this dessert, she still remembers exactly how much time it will need for this custard to properly cook and set. “It’s going to be forty-five minutes till it cooks---and even then it will burn your tongue if you try to eat it,” she warns Enjolras as she sees him nonchalantly leaning on the counter. “Give it two hours.” 

Enjolras shrugs knowingly. "You mean  _at least_ two hours.” He tosses some forgotten eggshells into the garbage can, pausing to drop a kiss on Eponine’s ear when he happens to pass near her. “Got anything you’re catching up on?”

“I’ll see what’s on TV first,” she replies, giving him a playful nudge in the general direction of the bathroom. It’s just as well that she’s got dibs on the remote while he’s in the shower; if he happens to come across upon some historical documentary, then the rest of their evening is done for. ‘ _Of course he’ll then text Combeferre, Feuilly, Bahorel, and Cosette to have a look, and that’s all we’re going to hear about tomorrow at the arcade,’_ she thinks. It’s just one of the endearing and odd things about him and their weird unofficial-family, but all the same there are some times when she’d like nothing more than to kick back with a huge cup of coffee, a mindless comedy, and her boyfriend’s quirky commentary.

As she hears the water running in the bathroom, Eponine kicks off her slippers and reaches for the remote, just as a soft knock sounds on the front door. She glances at her watch and sees that it’s only nine o’clock, a little too early even for Grantaire to be stumbling in for assistance after an alcohol induced misadventure. Now curious she goes over to the door and opens it a crack. “Who’s there?”

“Hello. It’s Eliza Schuyler, one of your new neighbours,” a soft yet clear voice replies. “I need a little bit of help, if you don’t mind.”

‘ _Oh so that’s who moved in over the Christmas break,’_ Eponine thinks, remembering now hearing from the building superintendent about the three young Filipino-American ladies who’d taken the apartment next to hers and Enjolras’. She almost feels sorry for these newcomers, really, having to put up with all the loud discussions, TV shows, and other things that she and Enjolras get up to in the unholy hours of the night. ‘ _But maybe it’s not that awkward if one of them is willing to talk,’_ Eponine decides as she opens the door more widely.  “You can call me Eponine. What do you need?”

Elizabeth Schuyler’s smile is one of visible relief as she looks at her neighbor. She’s clearly the dainty sort, if the frilly apron she has over her blue sundress is any indicator. Like many children of two shores, she is tall, but with angular eyes, long black hair, and a complexion that has just the slightest touch of the sun in it. There is nothing haughty about her mien when she meets Eponine’s wary yet curious gaze. “I don’t know if it’s a thing here, but I was making cookies and I found out I was short on sugar,” she says. “Do you have just a cup to spare? I’ll replace it tomorrow.”

Eponine can’t help but smile; there is no way she can deny this odd but nevertheless heartfelt request. “Help yourself. What sort of cookies are you making?” she asks as she steps aside to let Eliza in.

“Chocolate chip with cashew nuts,” Eliza replies. “Are you cooking something too? Did I come at a bad time?”

“It’s just _leche flan_. Nothing to it, really,” Eponine says reassuringly as she fetches a plastic cup from a cabinet. “Brown or white sugar?”

Eliza’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is there a difference?”

“Brown sugar works really nicely with cashew nuts. That’s just my experience,” Eponine offers, motioning her new neighbor to a seat.

“Really?” Eliza asks curiously. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s an experiment,” Eponine replies as she goes to where she keeps the brown sugar. It’s clear to her that Eliza is not the sort of girl who bakes on a regular basis, and she’s not one to begrudge a little help in this matter. She rolls her eyes affectionately when she hears Enjolras beginning to hum an old ditty in the shower. “Are your sisters baking too?” she asks, if only to keep an awkward silence from falling.

Eliza shakes her head. “Angelica---that’s my older sister, has a work dinner. Peggy is at a group study.” She shrugs as she looks at Eponine. “It’s a slow Friday night for us.”

“To be honest you’ll find the party scene in this city isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Eponine points out. Now that she thinks about it, she’s seen the other Schuyler girls too. One of them never lacks for company; perhaps she is the reason for all the visitors to the apartment next door. The other seems equally gregarious, and is certainly the source of some of the witty arguments she’s heard in the hall. In a way Eliza reminds Eponine of her own sister Azelma; a quiet yet solid presence that is absolutely necessary. “How long have you been in the Philippines?”

“Five years. We---that’s me and my two sisters ---moved here to study. Our parents and the rest of the family are still in New York,” Eliza replies.

“Oh. What are you taking up?”

“Dentistry. I’m almost done. Are you studying too?”

“I’m finished with grad school,” Eponine says proudly. “Now I’m a social worker at the orphanage a few blocks from here.”

Eliza nods slowly as she glances at Eponine’s hands. “So you live with---“

“My boyfriend. He goes by the name Enjolras,” Eponine explains. When she looks at Eliza again, she catches a wistful expression she knows all too well. “So who are the cookies for?”

Eliza sits up straight but that sudden show of primness is undone by the blush that crosses her face. “For a friend.”

It’s all that Eponine can do to keep a straight face; she of all people knows this lie too well. “I’m sure he or she will appreciate it.”

“He,” Eliza mouths. She tries to hide her flaming cheeks behind her slender hands but the way her eyes are shining still says it all. “He’s a law student and works part time,” she finally says more confidently.

“What’s his name?”

“Alexander Hamilton.”

The name is vaguely familiar for a reason Eponine can’t place just yet. “What year is he in law school?”

“Second, and he’s already interning with a law office, Attorney Washington’s. It’s only going to get busier in the coming months,” Eliza says, her voice brimming with admiration. “He’s a writer for the law school gazette too.”

“Definitely very busy,” Eponine concurs even as she hears a phone beeping. She watches Eliza fishing in her apron pocket for the gadget in question, but the gleeful expression on the younger woman’s face soon takes on a tinge of disappointment. “Is something wrong?”

“Alex’s meeting got extended. We were supposed to go out, but traffic and work.....” Eliza trails off as she pockets her phone. “It happens. He’ll make it up to me, and he did apologize.”

“He’d better,” Eponine mutters.  It is obvious that Eliza is so smitten, and it’s almost enough to make Eponine wish she could shake this mysterious Alexander for standing up such a nice girl. “Text doesn’t cut it.”

“You sound like my sister Angelica,” Eliza remarks. “She says that sort of thing will not satisfy her.”

“It doesn’t,” Eponine insists, even as she makes a mental note to chat up Angelica Schuyler at the soonest possibility. It would be best if someone else knew of poor Eliza’s quandary. “When you give Alexander those cookies, he’d better have something for you.”

A wry smile crosses Eliza’s face. “You think he should?”

“It’s just a thought,” Eponine says with a shrug. She shouldn’t be prying, really, but she knows all too well how it feels to linger next to the elbow of a man who won’t even look up from his papers. “So what are you going to say to him?” she asks, gesturing to Eliza’s apron pocket.

“I’ll wait up a bit. It is a Friday night.” Eliza manages a smile as at last she reaches for the cup of sugar. “Maybe I’ll be done with the cookies by the time he gets here.”

“Given the traffic lately, you probably will be,” Eponine says. “Good luck Eliza.”

“Thanks, Eponine. I hope to see you again soon.” Eliza got up to leave but paused after a moment. “At your orphanage, do you allow volunteers?”

“Yes, usually,” Eponine looks at Eliza keenly. “You have a dentistry mission in mind?”

“No, but I just want to volunteer. I always did that back at home,” Eliza explains. “Can I talk to you about it some time?”

“Sure. I’m just next door, or you can drop by the orphanage.” This time Eponine feels relieved to see something more of a smile on Eliza’s face. “Anytime. Just ask.”

Eliza nods more enthusiastically. “I will, soon. Thanks again.”

Eponine waits for Eliza ‘s footsteps to fade before getting up and locking the door. It is just as well that she hears the shower fall silent, only for the quiet to be broken later by the cadence of Enjolras’ footsteps returning to the living room area. “That was Eliza, one of the Schuyler girls, from next door,” she informs him, smirking at the sight of him still dripping wet and wearing nothing but his shorts. “Borrowing sugar of all things.”

“Ah. The ones who’ve been causing quite the party,” Enjolras remarks. “One of the guys who visits them is named Lafayette. I know him.”

It is then that the name clicks. “One of the cadets---ah, Courfeyrac and Bahorel know him!” Eponine laughs at this reiteration of how small their world is. “Would you know an Alexander Hamilton? He’s dating Eliza.”

Enjolras pauses and shakes his head. “No, probably not.” He touches Eponine’s shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

“I was just thinking about something,” Eponine replies. She’s not about to tell him of what Eliza has confided, but she feels disturbed enough to need a hug, which Enjolras gives to her without even asking. She squeezes her eyes shut as she buries her face in his bare chest. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers. She’s said it before but she remembers anew how difficult it was to get them to this point, and now all the more she’s glad for it.

“Why the sudden sentimentality?”

“No, only remembering.”

Enjolras shrugs before pulling her to sit with him on the sofa, her head on his shoulder as he presses her back to his chest. After a while he grabs a blanket and pulls it over the two of them, tugging the edge up to Eponine’s chin. “How much time do we have left?”

The question nearly jolts Eponine till she remembers what they had been up to before he took a shower. “Thirty minutes,” she says, checking her watch. “And that’s just for the _leche flan_ to cook.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Enjolras remarks.

“Never thought you’d be so patient.”

“I learn.”

The simple truth of this matter has Eponine smiling, and hoping that out there, another pair will do the same.  


End file.
